


A Scientist's Prophecy

by AYuriPlague



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10427001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AYuriPlague/pseuds/AYuriPlague
Summary: When several local residents of Ashburn go missing, Dr Clarke Griffin thought no mind of it until her run in with a mysterious fortune teller.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ive had this story bouncing back and forth for several, several months now, and while the summary may be short and sweet, I don't plan on this story being anything like that! Bare with me, chapters may not come quick, but I hope to fully flesh this out to fruition!

The city of Ashburn, located some thirty miles from the capital and freshly drenched from the passing storm, was the home of Ark Tech Industries. Once a small business company ran out of a rented one story house now based itself in the tallest tower Ashburn had to offer. White and silver lined the exterior, personally designed by the founder himself to appeal more to the growing revolution of technology  and to the consumers who now flock daily to the hundreds of stores nationwide. Where they could purchase a variety of advanced household items, self aware robots for perfect lawn care, personal electronics, and more. ATI became the fastest growing manufacturer in decades, making over several million in profits by their first year. And they kept rising.

Now know as a superpower in the research and production of robotics, it began campaigning for volunteers, promising a monthly payment upon successful testing and progress. They were selling themselves for science, and, which came to no surprise, the risks involved were more hazardous than your standard research facility. But this mattered not to a certain blonde surgeon, tucked dry under her umbrella and warm in her light brown trench coat who now walked down the slick sidewalk, shadowed by the building some two blocks away.

Clarke Griffin, a doctor at Ashburn Emergency by the age of 24, sighed through a frown. Hazed blue eyes stared off in the direction of her destination, straight ahead, while her mind replayed the difficult heart transplant done not hours prior. It's conclusion ended her 24 hour shift, allowing her time to herself for the next two days, while day two had her on call for the entirety. She did not look forward to spending her day in the call room, but she'd bring her laptop or a book to read. But more than likely, she would actually be called to help or wander around the halls to check in on her patients. Not much else took hold of her time like work did, and almost a year into the single life, Clark found it was best that way for the moment.

A lingered thought upon the blurred memory of her ex boyfriend of two years was forgotten when a voice called out nearby.

"They want to see through your eyes, and move your lips without consent."

The cryptic words repeated twice before she slowed to a stop, blue eyes narrowing down a wide alley way where a small booth was set against the far wall at it's 'T'. The dark tinted wood was stained even darker against the misting rain that drizzled down, topped with a thick leather cover. It's ends were ripped and cracked probably from its age, Clarke thought, and sun damage. What was odd about the sight of the small booth had not so much been it's sudden appearance, Clarke having walked this path many a time, but the shadowed figure inside. The source of the voice, silent as it watched Clarke stand there, was indistinguishable between the wind flapping the torn fabric and hazed weather. But it sounded female, in a higher pitch, slight accent.. When she spoke again, it caused the blond to jerk in surprise at how clear it touched her ears.

"Welcome, Liberator. Have you come to hear your fortune?"

The doctor almost laughed in her continued surprise; a fortune teller in this day and age? Surely the woman jests, and instead a man would rise up from behind a dumpster and ask for her purse. The latter was more likely than she would have liked and as her foot raised to step back out of the alleys entrance, the woman spoke again.

"Fear not, no harm will come to you today. Please, step forward."

There was a smile in that voice, yet also a hint of desperation. Clarke felt if she turned away, the woman would call after her. A rise of an eyebrow was her only response, unmoving as she debated on if she should entertain the thought of this primitive form of deception. An open minded individual but realistic, she knew how bad things could go if the woman fell into the less-than-honorable population of the growing city. Moments passed before a series of beeps drew her attention to her phone, a text from her housemate she assumed. 

"Look," the blonde said, pulling her umbrella closer to her shoulder and glancing back towards the way she was going. "As much as I'd love to be told what I want to hear, I'd rather not have someone try and analyze me just to earn a buck." 

"Wait!"

As expected, Clarke thought in surprise disappointment of the situation, but shook her head and turned fully back towards the alley's corner to place herself back upon her path home. She could give the woman a run for her money, a follow up thought to humor herself.

But the woman's next words brought hesitation to Clarke's steps, though only for a brief moment before she resumed her walk.

"When you hear the bells, don't turn the corner."

\--

"Sorry I'm late," Clarke spoke as she entered her two story home, seeing her housemate kicked back on an older but still comfortable couch, socked feet up on the coffee table. She didn't give explanation, and wasn't asked for one and instead was greeted with a chipper, sarcastic voice.

"It's alright, I already ate your dinner so you'll have to fend for yourself."

Rolling her eyes, Clarke pushed the latch up along the rod of the umbrella, the waterproof item folding upward to capture any stray bits of moisture before latching the velcro straps. The dark haired brat who now pushed herself up off the couch with a bit more difficulty than most, was her closest and possibly only friend the doctor had these days. Raven Reyes was a year older than Clarke, both having met through Clarke's ex boyfriend, Finn, before the two actually started dating. Raven had become the main pillar for Clarke's journey through the last year of her internship, almost giving up on the career after a huge fight with Finn which nearly ended their relationship. Though, four months later, with Raven's support, she ended it anyway. And soon after, the two moved into the three bedroom house and began the mending process, allowing Clarke to rediscover her passion for the medical industry.

"Life's a bitch, Princess." Raven grinned then, having met Clarke at the living room entrance with a pair of crossed arms and a lean upon the frame. The nickname was not something Clarke would have liked to explain to anyone, but it was far too late to ask Raven to come up with something else. Honestly, Clarke was afraid the woman would come up with a more embarrassing name than Princess.

"I swear, Raven, if you ate the last of the roast, I will murder you." She huffed with no bite to her threat, but feeling a small smile tug at her lips. 

"Oh please, as if." The raven-haired woman laughed, pushing off the wall and moved back into the living room with intent on bypassing it completely, as the kitchen lie beyond. The movement was not graceful, as Raven's left leg always gave her a bit of trouble in turning around. From the knee to heel, the limb was housed in a durable brace made by one of Raven's coworkers, an upgraded prototype of what Ark Tech produced the year before. The brace was more comfortable than the prior models, and thin enough to be hidden under her work pants, mostly cargo types. But at home or on the rare night out, it'd be visible over her leggings or tighter jeans.

Clarke had not been there during her accident, but Raven didn't talk about it, and didn't let it get her down. She described herself as 'strong willed', but Clarke just called her stubborn. Especially when it came to her work at ATI. And their generous staff allowed the rising star to take expensive and sensitive equipment home, having her own mech station in the furnished basement. The blonde made sure there were plenty of fire extinguishers around... Raven had a knack for setting certain things on fire, but there had not been any real accidents. It was troublesome to her conscious, though, as Raven's slower mobility once came into an argument of the mechanic's safety. The flight of stairs to the main floor would be too much if Raven needed to get out as quick as possible. 

Never one to be held back by her disability, Raven was so angry that she drug Clarke down the stairs, shoved her in Raven's work stool before turning and all but sprinted up the steps before the stool could finish it's full turn of Clarke's sudden weight. It was a conversation ender, and Clarke left the woman alone with it. And yes, Raven's burst of muscle movement gave her a fairly sore step for the next few days, but Clarke knew she'd rather that then lose the woman completely.

The refrigerator light blinked on as she opened the door, seeing the small covered pot of roast, soaked in broth and surrounded by carrots and potatoes perfectly fine and uneaten gave her cause to sigh. She wouldn't put it passed the woman to actually eat it all, but there was plenty enough for her dinner, so she just threw a glare at her friend now seated upon the center island.

"Get your ass off the counter and put your dishes away." Clarke said sternly, pointing towards the sloppy plates set near the sink and not in it. Greeted with more sarcasm that Clarke ignored, she began to prepare the remaining food.

Some ten minutes later, the two were in the living room while Raven skimmed through the channels they nearly never used. A beer in one hand and a remote in the other, Raven hummed her dislike for the movies or infomercials.   
  
"What year are we in to still have to say we have nothing to watch?"

Chewing, Clarke merely shrugged and licked her lips of the lingering broth. She may not be too close to her mother anymore, but when she wasn't working, she made fantastic meals for the two.

"Mm. That, what's that?" She pointed her fork at the screen where a newscaster was near laughing at a man who was spouting some conspiracy theories at a crowd of people near the Ark Tech Industries main building. It wasn't long into the video that the man was taken away for disturbing the peace by two local officers while a third man, younger looking with scruffy hair addressed the camera through chewing some gum. "There's nothing to see here." The man was dressed in a fitted black suit, but the nice clothes didn't contrast very nicely with the set scowl upon his face. 

The caption at the bottom read 'ATI's head of security throws out fourth person this month'.

"Who'd thought Murphy would land that spot, huh."

It wasn't a question anymore, Raven and Clarke both shaking their heads in continued disbelief. Murphy had not been the best of people, always getting into fights and even had history of gang related activities. But for some reason, the head of Ark Tech wanted him as his head of security. Rumors were that the founder merely wanted a thug as a bodyguard, while his official statement had been that Murphy was the only man for the job and the only man he'd trust for the buildings protection.

However, just before the video cut out, it zoomed in on the man being drug away, who then shouted a familiar phrase causing Clarke to put her hand over the rising remote, Raven's intent to change the channel. "Wait."

_ "They want to see through your eyes, and move your lips without consent." _

"What? You actually--."

"I heard that today." Clarke interrupted, but Raven barely noticed. "That phrase. Some lady in an alleyway said it."

"An alleyway? Pft. She probably wanted to rob you, or talk your ear off of the 'evil's inside ATI'." The mechanic rose her occupied hands to make air quotes before taking a drink off the bottle of beer in her left hand.

Clarke just frowned, picking up her own beer to drink as the thought lingered in her mind. 

A nudge to her shoulder brought her eyes towards a concerned look, which she waved off saying it was fine and she was right, she'd have probably lost her purse if she listened to the woman. The two settled back into more tv time, the news having taken a sad turn when the image of their counties Chief of Police, a tall, african american woman with short cropped hair and, as her staff once commented, always stern, came to the screen. The short announcement composed of the official closure in the case of another missing person, another person gone without any leads to their location. Images of the 12 missing came on screen in order of their disappearance; the first a woman of their age with long, wavy brown hair and bright green eyes. A beautiful woman lost to the world, Clarke thought sadly with a shake of her head once more.

"See? That could've been you. Don't talk to strangers." Raven said more sternly than Clarke thought her capable, but gave a silent nod before setting her empty bowl down and taking the remote. They'd find something to watch eventually, some older movie with terrible CGI, but Clarke's mind kept going back to that booth in the alley.


End file.
